


K.

by Abyssiniana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Keith (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Italian Pidge | Katie Holt, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Smut Eventually, Voltron, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssiniana/pseuds/Abyssiniana
Summary: WARNING: This fic hasn't been updated in a long while, and I started writing it when I was fresh into the fandom (I was watching season 2, if I'm not mistaken!). It doesn't really represent the way I see the characters anymore; I wouldn't feel good about continuing this unless I rewrote it entirely, and thus I don't imagine I'll pick this one up again. I'm super sorry!! I won't delete it, I won't mark it as complete either, but I'm not planning to continue writing it._"Keith? Are you there?""I always am."





	1. I

A tear of sweat ran down Shiro’s forehead, the intensity of the battle draining the sparkle of hope from his dark eyes. The Voltron team was surrounded, fallen in a trap so neatly laid by the enemies and prepared to face defeat, and inevitably, Shiro felt the weight of responsibility crushing his shoulders; after all, he had been the one leading them into this tragic situation.

It was over.

“Guys… What do we do?”, someone asked, a beaten voice Shiro didn’t recognize at the time as Hunk’s for not paying enough attention. His eyes darted from one side to the other, examining their surroundings with desperation; there must be something they could do to turn the tables. What were they missing?! Victory was imminent, and it was still attainable, but only if he and his squad worked through these adversities together.

“Okay, team, this is it. Now or never! We have less time than we need to turn this battle around, but we got this in the bag. We’ve been through worse and got back up. Are we giving up now?”, a stern voice of leadership echoed through the team’s connected microphones, replenishing their determined spirits with words of power and courage, he harnessed the power of words to rejuvenate a physically and emotionally drained team. “One last push, boys, and this victory belongs to us.”

There was a collective racket of agreement, their game faces back on.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Pidge, what’s our status?”

“Hunk’s cannon is in cooldown and might need around sixty seconds before we can use it again!”, intelligent and technical, the youngest of the group had an eye out for all the general conditions of the team, as well as the information they had gathered of their opponents. “But Lance’s weapon is up and the soldier on the left is charging his cannon as well!”

“Lance?”, the leader shutout over the vague interference on the communication. “There’s your opening!”

“I’m on it!”, the self-proclaimed marksman aimed his weapon to the line of enemy soldiers that approached them, an instant pull of the trigger bringing one of them to their knees. “YEAAAH!! WOO, DID YOU SEE THAT?”

“You can celebrate once we’re not about to die!!”, Hunk declared in a high pitch, dodging a bunch of bullets and urging the others to do the same. “They’ve taken damage from your attack but that’s only one down out of five! Watch it, Keith!”

The latter, making use of his speed to move to a closer range attack, used his blade to slice through their adversaries, almost recklessly had it not been backed up by both Pidge and Shiro’s cover. Keith sure kept quiet during their games, unless some asshole on the opposing team pissed him off; if that was the case, the teenager would throw a tantrum and declare war on that player specifically, not considering a victory unless he’d wreck the enemy’s spirit and self-esteem. A short-tempered high-schooler who got kicked out of gaming servers all too often for negative attitude.

“That was totally my kill!”, a grumpy Lance expressed his need for constant bickering towards Keith with an eye roll and a pout, a distraction that earned an opportunity for a robot that ran straight towards him, sword in hand.

Had it not been for Hunk’s headbutt on the guy, their team would be one man down. “HEY, watch out!”

“Stay focused!”, the oldest member of the bunch imposed, proceeding with his plan for victory. “Keith, move on beyond them and head to their base. We’ll hold them off long enough for you to get their Nexus and destroy it! Pidge, Lance, lure them to me and Hunk so we can finish them!”

League of Legends was a horrible game, as they were reminded whenever they played it, but they’d always get back to it when Overwatch servers were down and managed to have fun together. As foretold, Keith took his overly fed jungler to the enemy respawn area and destroyed it, while the others eliminated the opposing team to get an Ace. When the word “Victory” illuminated their screens, the team was filled with a sense of accomplishment beyond measure, letting out sighs of relief.

To think that they were about to lose this one… heh. As if. Team Voltron was unbeatable in its formation.

“Good job, everyone! If we weren’t all so far apart I would take you all out for ice cream, that game was so agonizing, y’all deserve a reward.”

“WOOOO, VICTORY-Y-Y!”

“Phewwww, that was a close one!”, the smile of the kind-hearted Samoan boy could be heard in his voice, an open mouth yawn bringing a full stop to his sentence. “I’m going to sleep now, though.”

“Aww, c’mon, man, it’s only 4 here, it’s even earlier there!”, Lance’s schedule was more rucked up than anyone else’s; the boy slept during day time and only really came alive at night, packed with energy obtained exclusively from salty snacks and energy drinks.

“Sorry, bud, 1AM here and I’m beat. Tomorrow I’ll stay a bit longer, promise!”

“Pfft, you’re a bore! Gotta pee, b-r-b!”, carelessly, the caramel-skinned Cuban boy tossed the headphones to his gaming keyboard to run to the bathroom to do his business. In the long distance the internet managed to shorten, they could hear loud curses in Spanish, from the lady they knew as Lance’s mum, famous for often dragging out their AD carry by the earlobe in the middle of a game to force him to clean up his mess of a bedroom.

The online conversation was kept for a while longer, though not for as long as they would’ve wanted. Some were ahead, and some were behind, from Japan to Samoa to Cuba to New York and finally, to the Mediterranean Italy. As for Pidge, it should be around lunch time, and Lance and Hunk must be facing the early hours of dawn, while Keith should be getting ready to go to school. In Shiro’s case, the sky was covered in a dark blue veil, the streetlights fighting for dominion over the stars above.

“If everyone’s leaving I’ll be studying, I guess. I hate time zones…”, the Italian girl stated, aware that she’d be alone at least until Hunk or Lance woke up, in a few hours. “Catch you later, guys!”

Her connection became mute and her little avatar disappeared from the voice channel, leaving only two currently active users. Shiro took a deep breath; after hours playing with their team, they were finally alone for a little while. It had become sort of a routine that would steal some of their sleeping hours, but every single minute was worth it.

“I uh… have to leave for school soon.”, a wearied American accent erupted through the mic, followed by noises that indicated that Keith was stretching on his chair. Shiro’s heart skipped a little beat with that thought, thin lips curling up a bit at the corners as he imagined the boy’s arms reaching well above him, the chair tilting back slightly with the movement.

“You didn’t have to wake up that early just to play with us.”, Shiro began, curling the cable of his headphones around his finger. He might have said that, but he was quite glad, as he was sure the other one was.

“It wasn’t because of them. I wanted to talk to you.”

That earned him another grin, this time accompanied by the soft reddening of the tips of Shiro’s ears. Little remarks like these could easily be misunderstood as some sort of flirting.

“We have a little time to talk now. Just make sure you’re not late for class and have breakfast before you go. Don’t compromise your success in school because of your lack of proper rest and shoddy eating habits.”

“Yes, yes, _dad_ , I know.”, Keith held back a giggle, before bringing something up, a request that had probably been rolling around in his mouth for a little too long. “Could we… do _that_ again?”, The Japanese man rose an inquiring eyebrow, but right after remembered what his pal could mean. “I would like to see you... if that’s okay.”

They had really only shared their webcams once before, a consequence of a lost bet, but they had ended up leaving it on for the following hours. It was a more intimate way of getting to know someone that lived so far away, and to finally put a face to the voice they had been listening to for months, even a year now, felt rather satisfactory.

“Sure. But only for a bit, I’m not letting you ditch class again.”, that said, he enabled the video, a green light on his laptop catching his attention. A rectangle with his inversed face popped up on the screen, and, as response, a rectangle of an equal size appeared on the opposite corner, the image of a black-haired boy all curled up, laying sideways in bed, and holding a pillow to partially cover his face. The quality wasn’t great but the ambient light in the video was so…  American. Red hues highlighted Keith’s little nose and hair, details of orange fading to yellow. So fiery. In comparison, Shiro’s room was cold, dark and purple, the white light of his screen reflecting on his tanned skin, and his exposed collarbones.

Shiro had to hold a little fuzzy gravity inside his stomach during the silence that followed. Was Keith feeling that as well? This crushing fear of saying something idiotic and ruin everything, even if he wasn’t sure what this “everything” was, just that it meant the world and was related to this boy across the world from him.

Argh. He should act like the twenty-four-year-old man he was, rather than a lovestruck teenager. It wasn’t uncomfortable to talk to Keith – quite the opposite, in fact – but it did make him think too much about what the youngster could be doing on the other side. Was he looking at him as well? If so, what was Keith thinking? Was the world suddenly so small for him too and could he imagine the scent of his clothes? The weight of his touch, the feel of his imaginary physical presence? The silence was warm, but it allowed too much self-confrontation about what they were pulling off here.

“… You’re smiling.”, Keith declared in a low voice, dragging Shiro back down from his late-night lollygagging.

“I bet you are too, behind that pillow.”

“I might be.”

“Let me see.”

There was some hesitation, but the younger one peeked further over the pillow to rest his chin on it and fully allow the Japanese man to see his features, a smile held back by his teeth sinking down on the pinkish flesh of his lower lip, cheek squishy against the pillow.

So darn cute.

“There it is.”, he pointed out, “My reason to live.”


	2. II

_“Don’t fall asleep yet.”_

Well, Shiro could _try_. Looking back on all the hours of sleep he had lost just talking to Keith, the dark circles under his eyes were already marked permanently on his skin anyway. What’s another hour or two, since he had to get up by then anyway?

While he did need to rest, he found himself to be completely addicted to the vibration of his cellphone, craving for the messages he was receiving between long intervals. It was highly immoral and selfish of Shiro to keep texting Keith and stealing his attention from Physics class, but… just this once, he couldn’t ignore Keith’s request.

That and he clearly didn’t want to.

He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes, slapping his cheeks lightly to remind him that he had to remain awake for a while longer. In a couple of hours, Shiro was expected at the animal shelter for his weekly volunteering contribution, and the day wouldn’t be over then; after lunch, he had to attend a lecture at college and then move on to the late afternoon shift at work, which would detain him until dawn. It would be an endless and busy day; if he survived that long without sleeping.

Caffeine would be his fuel. Yes. He would spend the day with a thermos bottle in hand, frequently refilling it with coffee like an addict.

Keith was taking forever to reply, but when he did, Shiro had to hide the screen from his sinful eyes, flipping it against the mattress and holding it down there for a little while.

A long deep breath was taken before the screen was turned again.

He had received a sneaky selfie, taken from a low angle. The American boy had his tongue sticking out a bit, expression that screamed “unamused if not for you to save me from this doom”, the background of the classroom showing little more than a wide-open window and the backside of a colleague. Keith held his chin up on his wrist, hinting a little smile with his dark blue eyes. The t-shirt he wore was rather loose, which exposed his salient collarbones.

Shiro sank back down, hiding in that fortress of sheets; he found the courage to stare at the photo again, thumb stroking the screen in a way he could only dream to touch the youngster. Lord, he was so cute. When had this happened? How could simple online hangouts end up in a feeling that twisted his gut and made him want to protect a soft little boy from another continent? He was attached, clearly, to someone he had never met – even though that’s relative; Shiro DOES know Keith, or at least the part of Keith he is online and wants to be known. It’s easy to fool and be fooled behind a screen, but the smile on that sweet selfie just couldn’t be fake.

Ugh.

This feeling burned on the back of his throat and on his lower belly. It was an unhealthy mixture of concern, devotion and the fear of getting run over and stepped on by someone he cared about. He was suffering for a reason he couldn’t quite explain and when Shiro couldn’t explain something, he wouldn’t rest until he challenged logic and bent reality to figure it out. Were crushes always this hard to deal with? His memory mocked him, reminding him that the only time he was hit so bad by the idea of “love” was with a maniac self-destructive girl back in high school who had him in the palm of her hand for her own pleasure. Dark days.

It occurred to him that he was taking way too long and leaving the American boy on the see zone. How does one reply to a selfie, anyway? Was there a protocol that ought to be followed? Kids these days had rules for that, right? Googling for guidance would take way too much time and Keith grew impatient. The next time the smartphone vibrated, it came in three times:

“ _Lunch time soon.”_

_“Then I can call you.”_

_“If you’re still awake._ ”

Four, actually.

“ _And if you want to, of course._ ”

With one eye open and the other hidden in the fleeciness of the pillow, a flustered Shiro barely hit the right keys to send his answer. “I’ll be waiting. You look adorable.”

How flat, you astro-idiot.

Deciding to wait for the promised call, Shiro kept going back to that picture after saving it on a gallery folder that threatened to explode with his SD card memory. It was filled with photos he had received in the past few months, from that person. With a slide of his thumb, he very quickly explored a collection of thumbnails of Keith’s smiles and -oh.

The application software they used for long-ranged communications popped up with a little user picture of Keith and an icon to pick up or reject the incoming call. Shiro didn’t think much before tapping the green phone icon and taking his smartphone to his ear.

“Hey.”, Keith’s voice was low, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. Shiro answered in the same raspy tone, eyes closing slowly as both his exhaustion and imagination made him fantasize about running his fingers across the boy’s black hair, softly scratching his scalp and pulling him close to his chest. He almost felt a lightweight against his side, cuddling up to his bigger, more muscular body. Keith’s leg would be over his own, and Shiro’s lips would kiss his forehead every now and then. He would feel the boy’s chest rising and lowering in sync against his ribs with his breathing process and he would hold him close.

He felt all warm and fuzzy instantaneously.

“I think I love you.”, he blabbed away, barely feeling how his lips stretched into a shaky smile. My God, he did, didn’t he. He was in love with a younger boy from New York.

“You’re probably… delusional with the lack of sleep.”, Keith assumed, though he was also, for sure, smiling, on the other end of the call. Giggling even. Perhaps biting his lip or nibbling on his cuticles as he claimed he did when he was nervous. “But… I do too. Really do.”


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (NSFW warning ;) )

**Chapter III**

The lecture on gravitational waves didn’t complement Shiro’s knowledge all that much; of course, it was always interesting to learn a German Doctor’s perspective on the matter – even if it’s just to keep himself updated – but nothing was said in this session that hadn’t been said before. At least he made an appearance, much to the delight of the teachers who, so eagerly, held him up on a pedestal.

A promising student with a developed mind and large dreams; at the very age of 24, Takashi Shirogane had a complete bachelor’s degree in both engineering and computer science and was currently concluding a major in physical science. There were no shortcuts for the stars as it was often told, and through calculated steps and choices in his education, Shiro aimed to become an astro-explorer. A pilot, to be precise. There was so much out there to be seen, worlds beyond imagination, secrets hidden in plain sight. What was known wasn’t even near to 1% of what could be discovered, and Earth needed people to push boundaries.

Shiro wanted to be one of the people who would push Science forward.

Guided by one of his proud teachers, Shiro had to shake the hand of several “important” people whose names and titles he was too distracted to memorize; except for one that caught his full attention.

“F-Forgive me… _The_ Samuel Holt?”, he rectified, not pulling his hand away from the Doctor’s and only after a few seconds realizing how awkward that must’ve been. One of his heroes in the field of military scientific research himself, right in front of him, flesh, bone and mind.

And Shiro had zero sleep that night. Oh _wow_.

“Last time I checked!”, the old man chuckled, playfully checking the ID tag hanging from his neck. “And you must be the star boy I hear so much about!”

Shiro finally let go of the elder hand, nervously laughing along. For someone of Samuel Holt’s rank and importance to hear his name backed with compliments… Shiro’s heart bumped against his ribcage as he politely bowed before the man; this was an undeniable opportunity for him. “I’m Takashi Shirogane. It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir. I’ve read your essays on the compelling need of spatial exploration and reconnaissance of resources, and I must say, it was a determining factor in--”

He was interrupted by a kind hand gesture. “I’d love to discuss my work with such a bright mind as yours, but I am still human and not getting any younger, and my jet lag often speaks louder than my delicacy. Please join me this Saturday for my lecture and dinner afterwards! We’ve much to talk about!”

Shiro nodded eagerly, taking mental note of the date. He supposed a little chat over coffee would be too much to immediately ask of the man after such a long flight to Japan, and thus he didn’t press it further and accepted the offer.

 

~*~

 

It was probably the first time in months that Shiro had decided not to game with his crew. After a hard shift at the call center, there was just no way his braincells would cooperate. There were disapproving groans erupting from his earphones, and he was touched for the fact that he’d be missed, but he was simply too tired to think properly, let alone formulate a strategy for a team of five.  “Sorry, guys. I’ll join in tomorrow.”

Lance whined to make him promise, and so he did, before hanging up the call and dragging himself to bed. He fell on it, face down, and presumed that he wouldn’t move again until morning.

The power of a text from Keith had been underestimated until that very moment. With a sudden burst of energy, the Japanese man tapped the smartphone screen to read an apology.

“I shouldn’t have kept you up that late yesterday.”

“I’m glad you did.”, Shiro typed “-babe” after that sentence, but then backspaced it. How silly; what would Keith think…

… He ended up writing it again, however. What the hell, it was simply an affectionate denomination. “I’m glad you did, babe.”

That made him feel like a goddamned teenager, heart fluttering with anxiety for the response of his online sweetheart, overthinking every single letter of the previous text. He held his breath for the little while the three dancing dots in front of Keith’s username announced an incoming reply, which took a little more than he’d expect. While waiting, he initiated a crappy mobile game which consisted merely in tapping the screen repeatedly to defeat some monsters. Automatedly, his thumb pressed the tactile screen, not demanding much of his attention, but also not allowing him to fade into the dark depths of imperative slumber.

It seemed that Keith had typed up a whole essay and then deleted everything to send a shorter message. Shiro pretended not to notice, though it gnawed at the back of his mind. Was the boy hiding something? Maybe it was just slow typing, even if both gaming and texting experience of past months told him that Keith had the fastest fingers on Earth.

“You never called me that before. I like it.”

Shiro smiled at that little phrase. He wondered if he’d ever have the chance to whisper that in Keith’s ear. Perhaps prefaced by a “good morning” and followed by cuddles and breakfast in bed. That had been a sappy reoccurring thought, these past days. Must be a repercussion of those mushy-gushy romantic movies he had been watching on TV lately, he told himself.

“I bet you can’t say that to my face.”

Oh yeah?

The voice call was initiated spontaneously; Shiro picked up his decrepit laptop from under the bed, set it up quickly and happily obliged the request, voice low and slightly hoarse due to a weird positioning on the pillow that hurt his neck. “Hey, _babe_.”

There was a special emphasis on the last word, and a few chuckles of his own as he heard bashful giggles on the other side of the line.

“I said ‘to my face’, Shiro.”

“I’m not sure _you_ can handle it.”, Shiro teased, before turning on his webcam and waiting for the other to join in. What he really couldn’t deal with was how goddamn adorable Keith looked with that messy hair of a boy who had recently woken up; 11AM in the US meant a little past 1AM in Tokyo. Keith was still in bed, laptop resting right next to his pillow, a setup similar to Shiro’s, however inverted. In their dream world, they could imagine to be laying down next to each other, simply staring at one another like the idiots they were. This overly long day was so worth it, after seeing Keith. “… Hey, babe.”, he repeated in an exhale, titanium eyes completely surrendered to the pixels that shaped Keith’s features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”, the youngster wiggled his eyebrows in amusement, as if signaling with them, eyes thirstily moving up and down.

Good Lord. It took that for Shiro to realize he was shirtless. As a matter of politeness, the flustered man pulled the sheet to cover him all the way to his broad shoulders, but as the conversation progressed into yet another set of hours of goofing around like they always did, it was eventually kicked back to the edge of the bed.

For a bit longer than he thought he should, Shiro rambled about how happy he was that he got the chance to meet one of the men he most admired in the field, along with an invitation for dinner; Samuel Holt himself. Even Keith was excited about it, commenting about an interview to the scientist he had found online. How wonderful it was that they both shared the same love and desire to unlock the secrets of the stars. In fact, their whole group did, in their different specialties, which very often lead to never ending debates regarding pressing matters about spatial exploration.

At some point, Keith hesitantly mentioned his dad, whose actions, once again, earned an eyeroll and headshake from Shiro. The man couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, it seemed, as he had brought home another junkie “girlfriend” who tried to play as Keith’s mum. It was like Mr. Kogane didn’t realize the position he put his son in, disappearing for days in a row and bringing in a new woman every time he decided to show up at home. It was disrespectful for more reasons than Shiro could count, but mostly because he didn’t realize how he hurt his boy.

Keith was a boy known to boil in little water; he would flip at the slightest of things, which had effectively triggered an argument between him and his dad over… Sonia? Was that her name? Oh, that one was from two weeks ago. Shiro said he was sorry for what had happened, feeling extremely powerless to comfort the American.

“Shiro, I want to be with you.”, Keith cut off out of the blue, when Shiro was about to doze off.

“Yeah… Me too.”, he murmured kindly, exhaustion pressing like a paperweight on all his body.

“Hm… What would you do if you were here with me right now?”

Shiro grinned at the several courses that prompt could lead to, taking his time to consider what he had been thinking about for a bit too long.

“For starters, we wouldn’t both fit in that small bed of yours.”, he joked, patting the empty spot on the sheets between himself and his laptop, almost as if inviting Keith to reach out from the web, through the screen, and right into his bed. “You could fit here, though.”

“Alright, sir, what would you do if I was there, in your mighty superior king-sized bed?”, Keith chuckled, using a mocking tone as he turned belly down, nuzzling on his pillow and hiding his arms below it, making himself comfortable.

“In all honesty, I think I would hold you.”, he admitted. Oh, he would hug Keith so fucking tight the poor boy’s lungs would be deprived of oxygen for a few long minutes. He was obviously more built than the youngster and his body could literally swallow him whole, but he could bet that their bodies would just fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. Like they had been made just for that, for each other. “Pull you close to me and… probably play with your hair between my fingers.”

He fantasized about the scent of Keith’s hair, if he were to dig his nose into it; the warmth that would reciprocate to his own skin if they would touch, what it would feel like if their fingers were to entwine. Fingertip loosely stroking the screen right were Keith’s cheek reddened with those words, Shiro continued, voice becoming lower as if what he was telling was a secret, barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me… I would kiss you.”

He saw Keith briefly lick his lips and, unaware, Shiro did the same.

“I’d like that. Kissing would be nice.”

“It definitely would.”

“Where would you kiss me?”, there was a hint of arousal, a perversion in that tone, matched by a grin on the image shown from Keith’s webcam.

Shiro covered his face, hiding his smile as he rubbed his eyes; the conversation was escalating to levels he didn’t quite expect but his body very helpfully responded like a hormonal thirteen-year-old kid would. It wasn’t the first time he got a boner while talking to Keith, but it seemed to be the first time he noticed it was mutual, from the way Keith squirmed slightly and tried to discreetly roll his hips against the mattress below him, voice coated in inevitable eroticism.

“I can think of a few spots; you’re short, so I would definitely go for your forehead first. You’re just asking for it.”, there was a grumbling on the other side, but he continued. “Then your cheek. Your ear, and I’d probably nibble it too, you look like the type of person who’d be sensitive to that.”

The “mhm” he heard confirmed his guessing-based science. He proceeded, eyes closing as he imagined his large hand running up Keith’s back to hold him by the neck, pressing their bodies together while his mouth traced him like an astral map, the hickeys he would leave on the plain canvas of Keith’s body forming constellations of their own. There was something extremely erotic about shoulder kisses, so he said just that. Ghost lips ran up Keith’s neck and jawline and chin, a mythical promise of a kiss.

“You’re avoiding my lips?”, he almost felt Keith’s breath hovering his mouth, gravity piercing through his lower belly, making Shiro snap his eyes open only to find the cold reality of his ceiling above him, rather than the boy he suddenly _needed_ to have there.

“N-no…”, he smiled. He should know that Keith was impatient. Even so, Shiro would take his time with him, should they ever meet and engage in such activities. He would make sure this broken boy was glued back together with his love. But for now…

“Are we… really doing this?”, Shiro breathed out, palming at the erection that tented up on his pants. When was the last time he had jerked off, let alone have sex? The latter counted on at least a few months, almost a year. Phone/online/webcam sex was not yet included in his not-so-vast sexual curriculum, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Sleep deprivation made him do the weirdest things, but he still couldn’t blame this on his lack of rest. He wanted this. As immoral as it was, Shiro found himself not caring, hand slipping underneath the fabric of his sweatpants.

Partial regret and sudden embarrassment would probably come in the morning, but that wasn’t until a couple of hours, so he didn’t think much about it.

“I guess we are.”, Keith’s voice was a purr, face partially hidden on his pillow, dark blue eyes peeking at the computer screen. What a tease; if this boy knew what he did to Shiro… In fact, he probably knew. “But you were telling me how you’d kiss my lips. Hint; I like it hard.”

“Ohh…”, Shiro snickered, raising a brow and glancing at the computer screen to find Keith doing the same. “So, I could bite your lip.”

“Only if you’re prepared to be bitten back.”

Oh, he was. He was quite okay with that. He noticed how Keith’s arm moved ever so slightly, as if twitching; it could be just a harmless gesture, but Shiro knew what was happening underneath the sheet that covered his small teenage body. They were doing the same thing, pulling their foreskins to the tip and then dragging them back down, their members hardening by the second, fueled by the power of their fantasies.

“Where would you want me? On top?”, Shiro was slapped with a sudden wave of heat across his nose and cheeks, but still tried to reply, stuttering over the first word until he was interrupted. “Straddling you?”

That was… an immersive thought. Shiro swallowed the drool that pooled around his tongue loudly, the strokes on his cock intensifying at the idea of having Keith sitting right on top of his hips, grinding and rolling on his lap, pressing down on his boner as if to keep it in place, to tame it.

“You’d like to have me sitting on you, Shiro?”, Keith whispered into his microphone, but it might as well have been straight into Shiro’s ear. The bigger man shivered madly, abs contracting as he held back an early orgasm. If he thought he had any control over this whole situation, it was escaping in between his fingertips, completely stolen by the American, who pinned him down in this fantasy of theirs. Something he, in a sudden turn of events, discovered he enjoyed.

“I would love that...”, he finally admitted in a strained voice, his kink choking him by the neck. The limited visual range of the webcam only allowed them to see each other’s faces and part of their chests. Shiro considered that a good thing; Keith’s blissful, flustered face was all he needed to get off without feeling like a _total_ pervert. Or was has that even worse?

Who was he kidding? After this, he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror.

Keith called his lover’s name in a moan as they both worked their cocks, groans synched at their shared thoughts--

“Are you big?”, the question threw Shiro off his tracks a bit, ceasing the rhythmical jerking abruptly; it took him a while to process it. Keith clarified with a giggle. “Like, down there.”

Well. Looking down at his throbbing member, it just seemed… normal. Proportional to his whole stature. His previous girlfriends often commented on how they wouldn’t be able to fit it all in and scolded him if he moved too suddenly or too roughly, which resulted in some of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

“I-I don’t want to say it’s BIG, I don’t think it is. It’s… proportionate.”, there was no other word to describe it, he supposed. The gasp he heard from the other side made him look over to a squirming, heaving chested Keith. “Keith? Babe, are you okay?”

The silence was long and alarming, concerned eyes scanning the low-quality video image being broadcast live from the US. Keith’s hair framed his face, hiding his pretty eyes, mouth agape stealing all the oxygen in his room.

“Sorry…”, he finally heard, after calling for Keith again. “It’s just… I… I came.”

Keith’s face was as red as his sheets, and he apologized more than Shiro could count, even if the eldest kept assuring him it was okay.

It was okay, of course, what would he say? That he was upset to be left with a problem that no longer concerned the other party? Would it be weird if he kept jerking off now that his partner was done? Maybe if he ignored his second head, it’d gradually lose impetus and shrink back down. Even if he was this close…

Dear God, have mercy, this rock-hard prick would not go down so soon.

“Where would you finish?”, Keith whispered once he caught his breath, a smirk adorning his beautiful lips in expectation. “Would you come on my belly? My ass? My mouth, or is that too nasty for you?”

“I-…”, by now, Keith must think Shiro was a stutter, as he tripped on small and simple words, discombobulated syllables barely understandable over the connection. The Japanese man felt like a complete idiot but focused on the question as best as he could. If he had Keith riding him, if he were thrusting so nicely into Keith like he was musing about a few minutes ago… what would he do if his orgasm began building up? Would he have time to pull it out and finish elsewhere, even? His hand pumped his volume, recreating the rhythm he had stated before. “I-I don’t know… maybe…”

“Inside? Would you do that?”

“If… you’d let me.”, Shiro exhaled loudly at that thought, his cock considering it more than enough to push through an orgasm, a moan dying out at the entrance of his throat. He tossed his head back into the pillow, back arching slightly, lips pouring out Keith’s name like it’s the only thing that keeps him going. His lower belly was painted with pearly colored drops of his seed, which he cleaned up with a tissue as soon as his muscles were ready to obey his brain again. Shiro hated feeling dirty, and the only reasons he didn’t get up to shower were a combination of exhaustion and Keith.

“… You pervert. Coming inside of me.”, Keith commented with a giggle, and Shiro laughed along, slowly shaking his head and staring at the videocam window with the dorkiest of faces.

“You’re crazy, Keith Kogane, and you’re taking me down the same road.”


	4. IV

**Chapter IV**

 

“Keith--…”

Waking up was painful, similar to a hangover. Beyond the rhythmical headache and the absence of any actual sensation of being rested, he was more upset after realizing that his laptop had died – or it simply ran out of battery – while he was talking to his love, quite possibly leaving him hanging. How long had it been? What time was it? A glance at his phone told him it was early in the afternoon, and the several messages and calls he got from Keith, hours ago, certainly in attempt to wake him up, only made him feel all the more like shit. “Crap…”

First things first; a couple glasses of water woke him up properly, and Shiro made sure to throw the paper tissues he had used to clean himself up last night in the trash can. He still couldn’t believe he had done such a mischievous thing with Keith; yet again, if he were to do it with anyone, he was glad that it had been his boy. His cheeks reddened as the embarrassment kicked in, memories of Keith squirming on the other side of the videochat, calling his name and demanding the dirtiest words from him. What kind of noises had he made? What did Keith think of him now? Had they discussed it after? He couldn’t remember, and he hated himself for that.

After connecting his laptop to the power plug and pressing the ON key, it made a bunch of unearthly noises, to which Shiro responded with soft petting over the palm rest; this old beast still had some fight in her. The startup took a while, but soon he had the Discord app running and his most frequent chatroom expanded to occupy the whole screen.

Keith was offline, a fact that saddened Shiro, but there was a certain relief in knowing he must be resting. If he could, he would brush Keith’s hair away from his forehead and kiss him there while wrapping his big arms around the smaller body. Hoping he’d have good dreams. Keeping him safe. Making him feel loved. Because he was, God be Shiro’s witness, Keith was so dearly loved.

He took the chance to run through the messages he barely recalls trading, but clearly did. So they had agreed it was time for Keith to go have lunch and for Shiro to _try_ and sleep, but they kept texting for a while.

“Look, I’ve been wanting to talk about us.”

That phrase in their private chatroom held a whole lot of anxiety-inducing power and a wide range of possibilities, along with a variety of agitated concerns into the already drained mind of Shiro. He could only assume he felt something similar when he had first read it, a few hours prior.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”, the brevity of his reply weighted even more on him now than then, his memory cloudily revealed, when Keith took his sweet time typing. A couple minutes which stretched into a couple more; Shiro rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, sighing as he sunk down into his bed, shrinking in size to about half, without actually managing to read what Keith had sent. It seemed he had fallen asleep about then, so now that he was awake, heart fluttering and face beyond red, he kept reading the several messages that were left unseen.

“You know I’m not good with feelings, much less dealing with them, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot by proposing something you’re not feeling as well, but to make sure we’re on the same page here, I’ll just say it. I am in love with you.”

Shiro’s experiences at love had been rather pathetic, which very clearly clouded his will to pursue anyone in the field of romantic affairs. His past girlfriends seemed to commonly agree that he was simply too boring, too focused on his own dreams to give them any more than a few days per week of attention. With Keith, however, he felt like his day wouldn’t be complete unless they talked. He wouldn’t sleep well without a goodnight text, nor would he rest assured if Keith didn’t notify him once he safely got home from classes. How he craved for the possibility of traveling to America just to see this boy. It could happen eventually, should their hearts be in sync for that long, as they seemed to be. How could a seventeen-year-old kid effectively have the balls to put into words what Shiro was feeling, and this dumb adult with more life-experience, more advanced education and presumably more maturity could not even come close to saying it? It should have been him taking that step, despite the obvious and quite scary age gap between the two lovebirds.

“And I want to be with you. I need to.”, Keith’s messages proceeded.

“So, well. I’m asking you to be my boyfriend.”

“Like, if you wanna, ofc.”

“… U der.”

“… Shiro, you there?”

“Fuck, dude, don’t fall asleep now.”

“Are you kidding me”

“Shiro.”

“SHIRO.”

“Omg man you’re killing me.”

The insisting messages kept going for a few more lines until Keith presumably resorted to urgent phone calls. The Japanese man felt absolutely abashed for not being able to give Keith the reply he certainly craved for within that very limited amount of time. Even Shiro, who already had the answer on the tip of his tongue, allowed it to roll around in his mouth, savoring it like caramelized sugar, delaying it a little more as he typed, a few hours late, the reply Keith should know he would be getting.

“I thought that was a given by now, babe <3 I love you too.”

After that, nothing but dead silence. For way too long.

In these hours of reticence, the distance between Keith and Shiro seemed enhanced. There was little to no purpose in getting up, showering and heading to class. But he did so anyway.

 

~*~

 

“Isn’t Keith around?”, Shiro questioned in a pathetic tone, pouting like a five-year-old as he noticed the grey little circle next to his crush’s icon on Discord. Pidge, Hunk, Lance and his own were all green, indicating their online status, but it seemed they’d have to go into queue without him.

“Don’t seem like it. But don’t worry, my dude, I’ve been perfecting my Genji moves, we don’t need him!”, Lance chuckled, the swooshing sounds heard on the headphones suggesting that he was doing those crappy ninja moves with his hands and some bad sound effects.

“I’m feeling more like FPS today.”, Pidge confessed, followed by a little sigh. “How about some heisting? We’re four players, as of now.”

“No way, I don’t cope too well under Payday pressure!”

“You’ll be fine, Hunk, just follow Shiro’s lead and walk right behind us!”, Lance attempted to persuade his friend, and they all booted up their Steam clients to pick out their game.

Shiro had little preference as to which they ended up choosing, so they went along with the heisting simulation game. It was scary how calculated and effective his virtual bank robbing skills were, but his mind was somewhere else.

Keith _should_ be around. He always was. A bitter taste filled his mouth in a way this action-packed cooperative first-person shooter couldn’t. Was it because of what they talked about – or else, what Shiro was shamefully late at saying? A slap of guilt crossed his face and weighted on his chest.

With his mental sanity at risk, Shiro had to retire to bed after their successful heist.

 

~*~

 

There was a ball of anxiety inside Shiro’s torso, as if something grew in there or had been stuck on his trachea, becoming bigger the more he dedicated a thought to his long-distance (and recent official) boyfriend – like a spider web of contagious vines, his lungs were entwined in thorny chords, compressed until he couldn’t even draw a breath and it soon spread to his other organs. Time was painfully slow, and the distance tripped his heart everywhere he turned. If Shiro wasn’t doing anything, he had to force himself to; otherwise he would dwell into this whirlpool of helplessness and confusion and… panic.

Dear God, what if something had happened? Across the land and the ocean, there was no way of knowing… _Three days_ was simply too long without any sort of contact.

No sign of Keith anywhere, no log in activity on any of his accounts or chatrooms; he hasn’t been on Discord, Steam, Facebook even. Calls have been made, messages have been sent, but all were left unanswered. He simply… vanished.

Vanished…

Out of reach. Even more than before, in a sense just as literal as being countries and a whole ocean apart.

Overthinking, overanalyzing and overreacting were the holy trinity of his kryptonite, and they would _clearly_ be the end of him. No food would stay in his system anymore, being regurgitated little after being half-assedly chewed, he could barely hold himself up during classes and work. If Keith regretted anything they had done, or how “far” their relationship had developed, he could have just told Shiro to fuck off and never talk to him again.

Oh, how he preferred being stepped on by the sharp words of an online break-up than simply not knowing if his LDR boyfriend had been hurt in some sort of accident.

Ignorance is bliss, it is said, but not in this very particularly hurtful case.

Not knowing was KILLING him. Whatever had happened, he _had_ to know, Takashi Shirogane would have to find a way. His following action was of no use and Shiro knew even before doing it that the automatic voicemail would kick him hard in the balls once again, but he called Keith anyway, having lost count of how many times he had tried this.

He was right. Another pain in the gut, twisting his stomach into blind knots, even as his fingers danced across the tactile keyboard of his smartphone.

“Please, Keith. Get back to me. I’m worried sick.”

Flipping his mobile around his long fingers, Shiro tried to just…

Heck, his breath was cut shorter and shorter. Forgetting his place, he allowed his head to bang against the table before him, nose first and forehead after. The pain was close to none, comparing to the cacophony of stress and angst inside his brain.

 “Shirogane?”, the teacher must’ve called, but he didn’t respond, not even after being nudged in the arm by the colleague next to him. “Shirogane, do you need a moment?”

Keith… His Keith…

Had he lost the love of his life without ever truly having him?


	5. V

Saturday took forever to come and if not for the pop-up notification on his digital calendar, Shiro would’ve completely forgotten about his meeting with Samuel Holt. How embarrassing would that be?

Although Shiro couldn’t canalize his whole excitement into a bare smile, he still tugged at the muscles on the corners of his lips when the scientist shook his hand with more force than he’d assume the old man to have. They were guided, along with a small group of other specialists in the field, to a restaurant downtown, one Shiro wouldn’t usually recommend.

The man was picky with his sushi, that was all.

“I hear you’re the next big bet.”, Samuel Holt commented over dinner, as he made the sake on his glass swirl around with soft wrist movements, eyes heavily marked by both age and knowledge squinting slightly – yet kindly – at the young man before him.

It took Shiro a little while to fall back down from his crushing reality – in which Keith’s disappearance took the leading part and the Oscar for the Most Dramatic AND Traumatic Event of the Past Years in Shiro’s Life – and assimilate what had been said, hoping it would go unnoticed as he threw out a muttered response. “T-That’s what I aim for, sir.”

Shiro didn’t want to come off as arrogant, but he had undeniable confidence in his skills. He was patient and understood that he might still be a long way from actually taking off to space, but he knew it wasn’t out of reach to him. With a gesture already automated, Shiro served Mr. Holt and himself with another round of sake. Even after as many glasses, Shiro’s mouth still felt dead and dry.

It was still a delusion, yes; it would take at least 1000 hours of flight experience before he could even attempt to formally join a Garrison base in their harsh tests – such as International Space Station systems training, extravehicular activity skills training, robotics skills training, aircraft flight readiness training… Beyond those, he was the most nervous about the required Russian Language course; that was something he had to work on religiously if he ever wanted to move past the “good morning”, “thank you” and “good food” range of vocabulary. Even after all that testing, he could simply be assigned to a different post within NASA or another branch of the sort. Science. Engineering. Research. Technical support. But he wanted to fly.

Perhaps going to space would probably be the only thing that’d save him from thinking about Keith 24/7. He had just been _ghosted_ by an American boy and was slowly coming to terms with it, and by “coming to terms”, he meant “not dealing with it very well at all”.

He was a mess.

The fact that he could already see the bottom of his cup again spoke for itself, cheeks reddening, though his mind was not clouded enough yet. He’d be better off in a coma.

Samuel Holt’s voice captured his interest again.

“And you clearly have the competence required to do it.”, the Italian man nodded, adjusting his little glasses on his nose bridge and he leaned forward. “A spirit of leadership, confidence and effectiveness. Your blood is cold, but you’re not heartless. You have passion and it burns in your eyes.”, Shiro had to chuckle at that, finishing a piece of mediocre soy sauce dipped sashimi and chewing on it. He would have a lot more passion if he hadn’t so recently taken a shot to the heart.

“I have a proposition for you, Takashi.”

The ambient around them died for Shiro; the ambiance music in the sushi restaurant became silent, chopsticks and forks on the porcelain turned mute, the chattering in their table grew distant, the experienced movements of the chefs slowing their motion, the color of the walls faded, and he focused on that older, wiser voice, grey eyes boldly meeting lighter colored ones. “Y-Yes, sir?”

“I’m preparing a voyage. It might not happen for a while, a year or so, but I need a pilot by my side.”

“I’m… not a pilot yet, sir.”, he countered, sinking back down on the corner booth sofa rather uncomfortably. Where was this headed?

“Not yet, you’re not. But that’s where I come in; you’ve heard of the Galaxy Garrison in the Arizona desert? I’m a Science instructor and researcher there.”

“Of course.”, Shiro wasn’t sure if he had effectively answered or simply nodded, the chopsticks between his fingers being pressed together with a bit too much force. Keith… had mentioned that base. Saying he wanted to apply there as soon as he graduated high school.

And there he was again, invading his thoughts like a virus hidden under layers and layers of computer programming. Shiro ought to format his brain disk or this Keith-centered malware would destroy him from within, he mused in thought. As Mr. Holt proceeded, Shiro felt obligated to shove food into his mouth.

“I am willing to offer you a scholarship to study there. We can provide you unlimited access to the flight training simulator. In a year, you must be ready to fly with me and a fairly small crew to Kerberos.”

“Kerberos…?”, now he wished he hadn’t put as much food into his mouth at once; or maybe he should’ve just held back on the wasabi paste. Either way, he had tears in his eyes and it took a lot of willpower to hold them there and push the salmon down his throat. “One of Pluto’s moons.”

That would be the opportunity of a lifetime. Shiro didn’t dare asking for more details on the mission quite yet, as it seemed to be in a very initial phase, but Mr. Holt got ahead of himself and blabbered away some details otherwise confidential. Ice samples that could prove the existence of life beyond Earth; exciting, yes. And the chance of studying in America, in an acclaimed facility, where he could enhance his knowledge and develop his flying skills? He could be throwing hopes in the air without a proper confirmation of its feasibility, but… there was a chance he could be closer to Keith.

He swallowed dryly. His heart was either beating too fast against his ribs or not beating at all. This was his life he was talking about, and yet he managed to reduce it to one person.

 

Pitiful, Takashi. Pitiful.

 

~*~

 

01:33AM and a very happy sake-touched Samuel Holt had just been safely dropped off in his hotel. Quick mental math told Shiro that it should be around 11:30AM in New York. God willing, Keith would be sleeping soundly, or just about to wake up.

Hopefully...

He felt lonely without being able to talk to Keith and it was a need almost mechanical to constantly check his smartphone for updates. How he wanted to tell him of the possibility of temporarily moving to the US… His thumb hovered the keyboard, but the idea of sending another text to be ignored in the realm of electronic messages haunted him so he chose silence over making a further fool of himself.

Realistically, Arizona wasn’t too close to Keith’s home town, but he’d rather be in the same continent as the boy than on the other end of the world.

What was he thinking… defying the stars to forcefully cross their paths? How could he consider that his relationship with Keith would materialize beyond pixels and webcams and networks, and now taking in account that their ties had been silently cut off? The Japanese looked up at the night sky, counting the dots above, and wondering if it would be alright to keep living in a lie like that.

 

~*~

 

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind, if I ever see him online again!”

Lance was an idiot most of the time, but a lovable one – however that logic worked. The Cuban boy angrily texted Shiro, sharing his indignation regarding Keith’s disappearance in several messages at once. Shiro shared a portion of that anger, but after a whole week of dwelling in self-pity and neglecting his duties at both college and work, it just resumed to a faded grief. His heart still ached every time he dedicated more than a thought or two to Keith, and it wouldn’t be a silly little crush he’d get over in less time than none, but the idea of forgetting was more inviting.

“… Look, man.”

For the first time in days, Shiro actually snorted. Lance getting serious about a topic was rare, but he was a very passionate boy, even more when fueled by the pain of a friend. That was lovely, and he wanted to say thank you before Lance could go on to cut it short. His poor little trembling heart couldn’t take any more of this.

Shiro would never understand why kids these days couldn’t say everything in one single text and had to send several fragments of a sentence. He slid his phone into his back pocket to pick up a technical support call at work (a lady who couldn’t connect her new computer to the network drive), and only 10 minutes later did he manage to get back to Lance and read the whole thing at once.

“I know you and Keith were close; I think we all were, as a team. But he’s clearly toying with you, ignoring you; I don’t believe something _dead_ serious happened to him, he’s a tough cookie. But you know what? So are you! You’re the toughest cookie in the package, those that have hard as fuck peanuts mixed in, no one can bite into you without the risk of losing a tooth! He hurt you. He did, and I (Pidge and Hunk too) can NEVER forgive him for that. But maybe this whole… thing you two had going on, was just… not meant to be? And maybe Keith realized that and was too much of a coward to face you. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Truly. But you deserve better than someone who doesn’t appreciate you.”

It would be much easier if Shiro could believe those words. Not meant to be? Impossible. His hand twitched in a frustrating grip around his mobile device, before he tossed it into a drawer in the counter to smile patiently at a client who just walked in with a laptop under his arm and a very angry expression. Call it stubbornness, but Shiro believed vehemently in fate and the threads of events that lead to a major encounter. Every constellation in the sky whispered to him that this was right; that they were meant to be, that they were made for each other. All his life, Shiro trusted the stars above anything. Would they let him down now?

His phone vibrated inside the constricted space of the drawer with the timing of a call, and he wondered why Lance would want to voice him right now. Shiro remembered mentioning he’d be at work as an excuse to his possibly slow replies, and not even Lance would be the type to distract him with a call just to get his attention back to the chat.

Whatever it was, would have to wait until he figured out why this loud gentleman’s laptop stopped functioning during lunch break.

 

After explaining very slowly to the client why water and electricity didn’t go together to prom and using a laptop as a rain hat was a terrible idea, Shiro saw him turn his back and leaving, engulfing him in the silence and emptiness of the tech store in this quiet afternoon. He didn’t get paid enough to deal with this, but yet again, he didn’t really need this job either. He took the chance to snack on an apple he brought from home, gnawing at the bright red skin of the fruit while sitting back on the cranky desk chair, leg crossed over his thigh.

Oh right. Lance. He should get back to him.

The few bites he had taken of the apple stalled at the entrance to his throat, eyes widening in disbelief as he stared into the pixels of his smartphone to the calls he had missed on Facebook’s Messenger. That name… a name he had been advised to forget, a contact he had been told to delete, popped up for what seemed to be the 29th attempt to reach him during in the past hour.

The name ghosted in his tongue, heart crushed inside an invisible fist. He hesitated – or thought he did – before picking up the incoming 30th call and took the phone to rest a few millimeters away from his ear. His lips parted, but he didn’t make a sound beyond a strangled exhale.

“… Shiro?”

Keith’s voice was a dagger shot straight through his chest and then yanked back out, blood pooling below him and threatening to drown him in a hodge-podge of relief and surprise and brutal feeling of being… violated, somehow. Shiro was saluted with an eased sigh (an urgent “thank God you picked up”), but not even then did he manage a proper word as a response. Instead, he tensed his jaw, tightening his teeth with force, nostrils widening as he tried to refill his lungs with strength to voice out the things he had to say.

 _Where have you been, Keith? Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you reach me? Did you read my texts? Saw my calls? Are you hurt? Are you okay? My God, Keith, are_ we _okay?!_

“Why didn’t you get back to me, Keith?”, he must’ve interrupted whatever Keith was saying because none of that rambling sounded like an explanation or any form of apology.

“Uh… I just…”, Keith staggered, undoubtedly buffeted by the crudeness in Shiro’s tone, one he hadn’t yet had the displeasure of hearing. “I-I only just got somewhere where they have a WiFi password I can type with my phone’s keyboard.”, There’s a little constrained giggle on the other side and it annoys Shiro a level too deep, a storm forming in darkening grey irises – with a high chance of rain burning behind his scorching eyeballs. There was WiFi in Keith’s high school, he had Internet at home and if for some reason the connection was inaccessible in any of these places, any American coffee shop or mall would have Internet access. Shiro just needed a simple “hello, Shiro, I’m not dead” these past days. A word, anything. “But… as I was saying… I’m here.”

Any comfort the linoleum floor beneath Shiro’s shoes might have given him was suddenly gone; he became dizzy and was glad that he was sitting down otherwise he was almost sure he would’ve fallen. In fact, he _was_ free falling, grasping loosely at whatever support the sides of the desk chair could give him. “What…?”

“Ozaka…? Or is it Ossaka?”

No… it couldn’t be.

“What I mean is… can you pick me up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to those kind people in the comments who connected the dots! Thank you immensely for all your love and support!! <3


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The fated meeting y'all have been waiting for!

_Okay. Don’t freak out, Shirogane._

Even if Shiro repeated those words in his head, he was, indeed, freaking out, eyes darting like bullets from head to head in the crowd of the most recent arrival to the airport.

Stiff body, limbs tense and cranky like rusty hinges, fingernails digging into his sweaty palms, lungs seemingly wilting inside his ribcage. Was he even breathing? The amount of anxiety that built up in him was about enough to cause a stroke. The love of his life had done something beyond crazy and he couldn’t figure out if he was furious, ecstatic or something in between. Before he decided, though, he had to channel all his energy simply into… _not_ freaking out.

He loved Keith so much it physically hurt, belly twisting like he had a black hole in there. He had dreamed about the moment he’d finally see this boy, fantasized about the way his arms would fit around Keith’s smaller stature and pull him up in a sweep. Maybe a kiss, even? Jesus, he hoped so, but what if Keith took one personal look at him and regretted everything? He didn’t know how Keith had gotten to Osaka, but he could just as easily turn back. The possibilities were endless, and not knowing what to expect made Shiro uncomfortable.

He had so many questions swarming around his tired brain, so many that he’d put the Spanish Inquisition to shame; was Keith truly here? How had his father agreed to this? Did he come with? Or better yet, did he _know_ Keith had travelled all across the world?! Oh fuck. _Of course_ he didn’t know. Was Keith aware of the type of trouble this could mean, not only to himself, but to Shiro as well? Their age difference would be rather alarming for anyone standing from the outside of their relationship; law and justice didn’t take maturity into consideration when it came to a child and an adult becoming romantically involved, and while Keith was certainly NOT a child, legally he was little more than that. If Mr. Kogane found out about this, and wanted to, he could simply accuse Shiro of persuading a minor to come and meet him. Could the charges even go as far as to suggest _kidnapping_?

He was mostly pissed, he ended up deciding. Yes. It was reckless of Keith to just pop up there, especially after breaking his heart with that ghosting thing. What were the boy’s intentions? His emotions were in turmoil, opposing tides, a storm in his heart, thunder raining down and striking his ability to think straight.

Running his fingers through his black forelock of hair – slightly tugging at it to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating – Shiro reached for his low battery signaling cell phone and began a call when his eyes rested upon one of the few people close to the Starbucks in the dining area.

Who was he kidding? His heart fluttered in some sort of exhilaration he couldn’t quite categorize at the sight of Keith Kogane. A skinny boy with a worn-out leather jacket unfit for this cold weather, black jeans loosely hanging from his hips, a belt barely holding them in place. He had his arms crossed over his chest, undoubtedly holding himself in attempt to keep warm, because he’s a goddamned idiot who can’t even dress accordingly to the weather channel. There was a heavy frown on his brow, eyes squinting sharply towards... a baby? Was Keith holding an intensive staring competition with a three-year-old? It sure was something the boy would do. Thanks to the call Shiro forgot to cancel, Keith lost that folly battle to look down at his phone and bringing it to his ear, harsh expression softening into a hopeful smile.

“Shiro!”

He was used to hearing this voice so close to his ear, through his headset, and often paired with a video, but to witness the way Keith’s lips moved to form his name, _LIVE_ , was just… breathtaking. Keith was breathtaking and Shiro had forgotten all about the mechanics of breathing.

“… Keith.”, did he say that out loud? It probably sounded like an exhale rather than a proper word, feet finally daring to obey his brain and taking a couple hesitant steps forward. He saw Keith making a face at his smartphone and then redialing only to have the connection rejected.

_I ran out of battery, probably._ The Japanese rightly presumed, returning his black screened phone in his back pocket.

This felt surreal. For almost a year, they’ve had miles and miles between them. Shiro was almost used to that distance, despise cursing it in short intervals between gaming, online voice and video chatting. It was a variant that wasn’t within his power to change immediately (though he assuredly planned to visit the US, sometime) and just a few hours ago he was convinced that it’d never cross his mind again. But looking at his boyfriend right now, the land and the ocean between them became less than history, drawings on a map, and with each step Shiro took, the miles became feet; should he dare to, that remaining distance would come down to a few inches.

Of all the things Shiro could worry about, he considered that he should’ve at least changed his clothes in the bullet train, on the way to Osaka. He looked ridiculous in a white polo with the purple logo of the tech shop and a name tag in an alphabet Keith wouldn’t understand. He could feel the blood rising to his face, burning him, dying his face in red all the way to the tips of his ears, which probably only made him look all the more absurd.

Keith’s indigo gaze finally met Shiro’s and his legs froze in place, a whole dimension with the fuzzy quality of a dream taking reality’s place, the corners of his vision becoming blurry like a panel from a shoujo manga.

_He could just die right now._

He saw the boy leaning down to grab the backpack at his feet, tossing it over his shoulder and—oh Lord, he was walking towards him. Pacing. Running, but in slow motion. Shiro felt dizzy.

The Adam’s Apple on Shiro’s throat bobbed madly as he swallowed dryly, jaw clenched tightly. As foretold, the distance became less and less until they stood at an arm’s reach from each other. Keith’s eyes gleamed but Shiro tried not to notice, aware that if he stared into those dark blue pools he’d drown in their captive beauty. Keith’s lips parted like he was about to say something—

_He’d **gladly** die right about now._

“Holy fuck, you’re _huge_.”

Shiro blinked, only then taking in the fact that he was about a whole head taller than the Kogane boy. Well, he expected this, he was objectively tall for the average Japanese man and he was aware that Keith was rather short, but it was a funny remark that earned Keith a little shy giggle from the older man. So much about the proper introduction in the form of “hey, Keith, how was your trip? I’m both glad and surprised to see you” he’d been mentally planning.

“T-that I am.”, he attempted at a smile, shoulders shrugging as he diverted his gaze. He was glad to notice that he wasn’t the only one blushing madly; that made him about 10% more comfortable while the remaining 90% still freaked out about the boy in front of him. How should they even go about this? Should he have said hello before? Should they hug? Would… Keith be okay with it? Because he really wanted to do that. “Does… that bother you?”, he ended up saying after a few moments, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “That I’m taller.”

“No… No!”, the teen shook his head and Shiro noticed him rubbing his palms against his jeans. He might’ve done the same too, he realized, knuckles cracking as he balled his hands against the denim. Finally, he saw Keith smiling; he thought the videoconferences would’ve prepared him for this, but there was nothing in the world that could’ve predicted the supernova on his heart when he saw it. “No way… It’s… nice. That you’re tall.”

The smile stayed there, stunning and amazing. Shiro was tempted to kiss him but held back on that selfish impulse out of fear of ruining the moment. This encounter had to be perfect, despite the confusing premises that lead to it. He wouldn’t want to ruin this any more than he already had with his initial awkwardness. He should probably stop looking at Keith like a slack jawed idiot and organize his questions to figure out where they’d go from here. When he was finally able to form a rational train of thought, it immediately derailed and crashed down a cliff when Keith leaned forward, his forehead falling on Shiro’s sternum with a soft thud. The impact was soft, but there was a little ache on his heart, though the Japanese ended up attributing that pain to the fact that they were suddenly so close.

“It’s good that you’re tall… for hugging.”

Shiro sighed when he managed to suck in a breath, and allowed his eyes to fall closed, heart beating so rambunctiously he was sure the sound reverberated through Keith’s skull, arms slowly lifting to curl around the smaller body in front of him, pulling them both into that dimension from before, with the magical quality of a Sailor Moon episode. It felt… so right. So meant to be. For as long as that embrace lasted, Shiro mused about the constellations lining up to predict this exact moment, the feeling of belonging that they only gambled about in their fantasies. His nose sank into dark locks, brushing at the youngster’s scalp, inhaling his scent, lips hovering Keith’s ear, as he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you…”

Perhaps without noticing, Shiro squeezed the boy tighter, humming a bit before letting go at last.

“Took you long enough to get here…”, Keith grumbled, cheeks puffing as he pulled the collar of his shirt to hide his face, a gentle shade of blush burning up his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, I happen to live in another city, _three_ hours away”, he put up three fingers as he spoke to emphasize his point, “which you would probably know, if you had bothered to say you were coming, before recklessly jumping on a plane and traveling across the continent.”, Shiro didn’t want to scold, but his tone did so anyway, voice hoarse from holding back the myriad of emotions that swam across his chest.

“You would have tried to stop me if I told you.”, logically, Keith, of course he would.

The shrug triggered a nerve that made Shiro sigh and rub his forehead. “Keith, I don’t even want to know HOW you found the money to fly here. Alone. With nothing more than a knapsack.”, not at the moment, at least. He was far too tired to process the fact that this wasn’t only another one of those very well architected dreams from which he’d wake up more exhausted than when he had laid down. Keith. The boy he had met and fallen in love with, online, now stood next to him, fidgeting with his long sleeves like a goddamned schoolboy on the first date with his crush. That wasn’t too far from the truth, this being the first time they meet face to face, but the adversity of their circumstances brought a bitter taste to his tongue the more he dedicated a thought to it.  “I… still can’t believe this. I’m beyond thrilled to see you, I am, but what you did can bring more problems to _both_ of us than you can—”

“Food? Please?”, the request was soft, hushing Shiro with a pair of wide Puss in Boots-like eyes. It was way too early in their relationship to be unable to resist a plea, but just this one time, Shiro would let it pass. Keith must be tired; almost 20 hours in a plane was bound to be exhausting. Knowing this kid, he probably didn’t get anything to eat during the trip either, so dinner was more than due.

Eating at the airport would be a terrible idea; not that the prices were too outrageous – more like the money wasn’t an issue for Shiro –, just that the place itself felt suffocating with the heavy dose of adrenaline pumping through them both. Staying there any longer would be too overwhelming.

“At this hour there aren’t that many places open.”, Shiro remarks once they’re outside, borrowing Keith’s smartphone and using his mobile data to connect to Google Maps and find somewhere within walking distance. They should probably look for a hotel for the night as well; Tokyo was a few hours away and there was no need to force any more traveling on the American, in such a short amount of time.

They walked in the night for a few minutes, glad to see the airport disappearing behind the tall buildings. Keith leaned close to Shiro, seeking his warmth, and thus the eldest offered the inside of his jacket as shelter. Keith’s arm slipped around his back to rest at his right hipbone, inviting him to rest his own arm around Keith’s shoulders. And so he did.

Like a couple.

Shiro smiled to himself at that thought. He could get used to this proximity.

As they went about, they considered a curry restaurant (scratching it off the list almost immediately since it was just about to close for the night), a Japanese rice bowl food chain, Chinese food at a _Gyoza no Ohsho_ establishment, and a ramen stand. Shiro was about to suggest KFC, only then reminding himself from previous conversations that Keith didn’t eat meat.

“Is that a McDonald’s up there?” Shiro snorted at how American Keith sounded, pointing at the familiar yellow “M” just over the footbridge. Last he recalled, there was a vegetarian option in the menu, so they went with it. They’d have time to expand Keith’s Western palate in future meals, though, there were a bunch of things Shiro would like the other to experiment.

“McDonald’s works. Let’s go.”

Shiro noticed that Keith squinted at the menu on the television screens, wondering just how alike the Japanese offer in the restaurant chain could compare to the US version he was used to. He knew that some options were exclusive to his country, such as the Mega Mac (Shiro would definitely have one of those big ones, he was famished), the Teriyaki Burger, and Juicy Chicken Akatougarashi, but the boy seemed bewildered by the ones he had never heard of.

“Okay, this is a very important moment.”, Keith spoke suddenly after they sat at a table with their order, observing Shiro as he ripped the ketchup pack with his teeth. “The way you pour ketchup on your fries says a lot about you as a person.”

“Like a horoscope but based off sauce. You Americans are visionaries.”, Under his boyfriend’s judgmental stare, there was a little added pressure to an act as innocent and simple as serving himself some ketchup, but he tried not to pay too much of a mind to it, proceeding as he normally would – squeezing the contents of the ketchup pack on one corner, partially over the fries. “So, what’s the verdict? Am I a serial killer or something?”

Keith emerged from a little bite on his McVeggie, examining Shiro’s tray with a look that suggested more wisdom than this “science” required. “Hm. A man of control, I see. You like to make decisions; you know what you want and when you want it. Maybe you want to cover one fry with ketchup, and the next one just barely dipped. Either way, you're prepared to make that imperative decision.”

“Remarkable.”

Turns out Keith was the type to live dangerously and drown the chips in as much ketchup as available. Such lead to a “do you want some chips with that ketchup” joke, and a playful theft of some of it with some of Shiro’s own chips, one that came with an immediate payback in the form of a little ketchup smear across Shiro’s cheek.

There was a brief discussion regarding the validity of such psychological evaluation, but they ended up agreeing that the power of fried potatoes will always bring the different types of ketchup users together.

Talking to Keith was never not easy online, conversation flowing as naturally as if they’d known each other for years. Shiro was surprised to see that it was no different in person. There was an initial rustiness, one that they were both glad to see left behind at Itami airport, along with most of their insecurities for the night, but once they assimilated the fact that they were both real and willing to be with each other, it became so natural. When Keith finished his meal, he shifted places and sat next to Shiro, comfortably leaning closer as they laughed a couple of hours away in the company of a shared Matcha adzuki flavored McFlurry. Keith was hesitant regarding the combination of green tea and red beans in an _ice cream_ , but it turned out to be quite pleasing.

It wasn’t until Keith clung to Shiro’s muscled bicep with a yawn that they decided it was time to head back down the street to the two-star hotel they’d found earlier. Hotel Ivory would do nicely; it was cheap, comfortable enough for one night and came with breakfast the next morning – Shiro was looking forward to that already. There were several rooms available: the western room, the Japanese room, and one that merged the two concepts in a comfortable/traditional in-between. Shiro couldn’t care less where he slept; there was something about waking up and checking the spot next to him in bed rather than his smartphone, and he just couldn’t wait—.

_Uhm_.

If they… would sleep _together_ , that was. The receptionist looked up at him with dark yet kind eyes, and Shiro suddenly felt dizzy at the question, blush rising to his face. Keith had dropped the bag at Shiro’s feet and had fled to find the bathroom downstairs with some urgency, so he couldn’t ask him if he was comfortable with sharing a bed or if he preferred his own space. Well, damn. Under the pressure of the moment, he swallowed dryly before shrugging and opting for the safe double bed room. Just in case. He could still look over to the second bed of the room and say good morning to his little ray of sunshine.

Keycard in hand, Shiro smiled at… Tomoko, he noted, reading the lady’s name tag, before politely bowing and excusing himself. He met Keith halfway, palm resting at the end of the smaller boy's back to guide him to their room, up on the second floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;))))


End file.
